The Chemicals Between Us
by Anyanka
Summary: A complete story involving Logan and Storm. One night Storm is grading papers when something goes bad... really bad
1. Default Chapter

CH 1  
Ororo brushed back a strand of her silvery white hair as she overlooked her   
classroom. Her unruly hair seemed to match the appearance of the room; in a   
frenzy to leave her history class on the last day before winter break the   
students had left the desks in crooked jambles, papers were left crumpled on   
the floor, and the fresh snow had mixed delightfully with the student's   
shoes, leaving a muddy residue all over the floor. ~All this and I still   
have the finals to grade. And those damn papers. What was I thinking   
making them do a ten page research paper?~  
  
Ororo's sigh was ostensible and her shoulders sagged. "Might as well get   
started," she muttered to herself as she pushed a desk, Young Bobby's, she   
believed, back into its original position. ~It's not like anyone else is   
going to do it for me.~  
  
It was already evening, and almost all of the students had gone home for the   
holidays. The ones that hadn't had gone with Gambit on a five day trip to   
Montreal. The Professor was visiting Moira on Muir Island, and Jean and   
Scott had decided to go and visit her parents for Christmas. Ororo, with   
nothing better to do, had opted for staying at the school and working.  
  
This had been Ororo's second year teaching history at the school. Before   
that, she had only stuck to art, botany, and English, but the Professor had   
chided her into it. "We just simply don't have enough qualified teachers   
for our growing number of students," he had told her in his office that   
fateful August day, when it was so humid that her hair had been like a cloud   
of mist around her head. "I was hoping that when Logan arrived, perhaps he   
could take over a teaching position or two, but as it turns out, I suppose   
he won't."  
  
~Logan. Ha,~ Storm thought bitterly as she continued her work, picking up   
what appeared to be a porn magazine from under.once again, Bobby's desk.  
  
~Logan.~ She let her mind roll over his name for a minute. He had just   
waltzed into their lives without even a hello, and left pretty much the same   
way. The first time Ororo had even seen him, he hadn't even acknowledged   
her. Well, to be fair, he was on the verge of passing out after battling   
Sabertooth. She and Scott had been in northern New York when the Professor   
linked his mind with theirs and told them that there were two mutants in   
trouble. She had just managed to drag Scott into a little boutique, where   
she had just found the perfect pottery piece for her garden. It had taken   
her hours to find it, and just as long to finally convince Scott to walk   
into the store. But she was Storm, the all powerful Goddess. She was   
always on duty. She didn't deserve any time to herself.  
  
Storm frowned. She was sounding stupid and snobbish, even to herself.   
Sure, she loved being an X-Man, but she felt like she didn't have a life   
outside of it. She had no friends who weren't in the School, no real   
family, and she hadn't gone out on a date for nearly three years, so like   
any normal woman, she had been taking out her anger and confusion by buying   
trinkets. When they left the boutique and finally found Logan and Rogue,   
Storm immediately conjured up a wind and a storm and took care of their   
problem. It was that simple. ~Goddess, they could have let Cyclops handle   
that one by himself. Oh stop that! You sound like a bitter old hag.~  
  
But the mission came with something that was a bit more complicated. Logan.   
Wolverine, as he called himself. Even as she and Scott carried his   
incapacitated body to their car, she had felt some sort of pull to him.   
Something natural. It had excited her, she told herself, and that was it.   
It was because of his wild side, his animal behavior, that was all she felt.   
Although, she was a little more than disappointed when he woke up and only   
had eyes for Jean.  
  
Not that he shouldn't. Jean was much prettier than her. Jean had hair like   
a rose and skin like a lily, where Ororo's skin and hair looked as   
mismatched as a four year olds coloring book. Jean also had charisma. Where   
Ororo would silently contemplate, Jean would laugh, giggle, and do other   
girlish things. Even though they were nearly the same age, Ororo wasn't   
sure when she was born, she always felt like a matron standing next to her.  
  
When Logan chased after Jean and not her, Ororo had quietly called herself   
foolish and contented herself with watering her garden. For some reason,   
though, she had felt angry about it. Angry at Logan. Angry at him for   
choosing Jean and not her. But that was long ago. Nearly two years had   
passed. Logan had returned, for good, he said, and although he still had   
eyes for Jean, it seemed like his chances were slim, since Jean and Scott   
had been engaged for nearly seven months.  
  
Jean and Scott. Now that was a fairy tale come to life. American Boy meets   
American Girl, they fall in love, get married, and eventually have many   
offspring. Although Ororo was happy for Jean, a little voice in the back of   
her mind was jealous and kept screaming at her, "Why does she deserve to be   
happy and not you? Why don't you have a man?" Even though she tried to   
block this voice out, it got to her sometimes, and when it did, she found   
herself being extremely rude to Logan, the man who didn't want her, even   
though that was insane.  
  
Ororo almost giggled at remembering how out of character she got when the   
green eyed monster struck. In her last encounter with Logan, two days ago,   
she had felt the same jealousy and promptly told him to piss off. When   
Logan had eyed her questionably, she had restated it in simpler terms. Fuck   
off. Although saying it had made her feel a little better, she felt rather   
bad about it now.  
  
~Goddess, I'm a real bitch sometimes.~  
  
Ororo surveyed her work. All the desks were neatly arranged and most of the   
papers and debris were picked up and neatly tucked into the trash bin.   
~Onto the grading.~  
  
Removing a black elastic hair tie from her wrist, she piled her hair in a   
loose, flowing knot on the top of her head and sat down at her desk. Her   
chair creaked ever so slowly as she leaned back in it, searching her bottom   
drawer for her red pen. When she found it, she pulled the cap off with her   
teeth and looked at the ominous stacks of papers before her. There were   
three stacks in all; one were the research papers, one was the finals, and   
the other was the essay section of the finals.  
  
Eyeing the large stack, she finally understood why a lot of students hated   
her class.  
  
She sighed and grabbed the first research paper, taking a quick glance at   
the clock. It was nine twenty. Scott and Jean are probably already halfway   
to her parents by now, and the Professor is probably asleep on Muir Island.   
~How is it that they managed to get all their grading done while I'm still   
here?~  
  
She began reading her first paper, about the Spanish American War, and the   
world slowly began drifting behind her, blurring between the tiny print of   
the paper. When Ororo looked up again, it was ten. This student had to be   
an over achiever and write seventeen pages, full of blaring grammatical   
errors, and of course Ororo had promised each student a comprehensive review   
of each paper. ~I am an idiot.~ She managed to read through four more   
papers and check thirteen semester exams before the tick tock of her clock   
grew so loud that it was deafening. 1:55 it read. Ororo meticulously put   
her pen down on her desk.  
  
"I need a break."  
  
Shoving her legs back, her chair slid two feet and she jumped up. It felt   
so good to move her body after sitting still for so long. She jumped up and   
down a few times to get her blood running, and then headed towards the   
kitchen to get herself a coke. Finding none in the refrigerator, she took   
the only other option besides water; some of Logan's beer. She gingerly   
took a sip. It wasn't too bad, if you shut your eyes.  
  
She decided to drink her beer in the rec room, and maybe see what was on TV.   
Barefooted, she made her way into the rec room and silently sat herself   
down on the couch. Grabbing the remote, she turned the TV on and soon its   
soft blue light filled the room. Jane Eyre was on, and Ororo contented   
herself by watching the gothic romance unfold as she drank her beer.  
  
"What are you doing?" Involuntary, Storm jumped and spilled the little that   
was left of her beer all over her lap.  
  
"Oh shit. I really liked these pants and now they smell like, well, you."  
  
Logan gave her a funny half smile and slid into the seat next to her,   
thrusting a few Kleenexes into her hands. "Here. Looks like you need them   
more than me."  
  
Ororo took them and began dabbing at her pants in a vein attempt to clean it   
up. "You know, Logan, you could really give me a little more warning before   
you sneak up on me."  
  
"How much more do you need? I made plenty of noise walking up here, but you   
were just too involved in your girly movie to notice."  
  
"Well, pardon me for not having your hearing or Jean's telepathic   
abilities."  
  
There was a silence as Storm scrubbed at her pants. Logan looked around the   
room and then down at her. She could fell his eyes wandering the entire   
time, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.  
  
"Why do you always mention Jean whenever I try and talk with you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You always mention something about Jean whenever I try and hold a   
conversation with you. It's like I'm saying 'How's the weather, 'Ro?' and   
you say, 'Well, go ask Jean about it.'"  
  
Ororo got a little angered over this accusation. It was absurd. "That's   
absurd. Me, the one to always mention Jean? I'm not the one who's in love   
with her. I think you're just a little preoccupied with her, and trying to   
blame your obsession on me, because you know you'll never be able to have   
her."  
  
"Where the hell do you get off telling my about my obsession? You don't   
know the first thing.God, you're impossible to talk to. You think you're so   
high and mighty. Well, maybe you are, Goddess, but that still doesn't give   
you the right to be a bitch about it."  
  
"And where the hell do you get off calling me a bitch? Goddess, Logan, is   
that what you really think of me, that I'm a stuck up bitch? I've known you   
for what, two years, and you're just telling me this now? I see our pseudo   
friendship has meant so much to you, but of course, not as much as your   
hypothetical relationship with Jean."  
  
He turned to face her now, his eyes gleaming. "There you go, bringing her   
up again. What the hell is your problem with that? I'm over Jean."  
  
"Over Jean? Ha, you're pretty funny Logan. Over her. Like you could ever   
get over someone as beautiful and perfect as her. No one could. But I   
guess you're right Logan, I guess I am a bitch. Just a stupid bitch who   
spends her time teaching and saving people and meddling with them later.   
The least you could give me is a god damn thank you for that, you know? My   
first memory is of saving you, and my second is of you trying to make out   
with Jean. Thanks for noticing me, the person who saved your life while   
Jean was at home watching 'Gone with the Wind'. That makes a person feel   
real special."  
  
Ororo threw down her beer can, which had gotten crumbled into a wrinkled   
mass at some point in their conversation. She gathered the Kleenex and   
stood up to go, when one of Logan's rough hands grabbed her shoulder.  
  
"No, Ororo. You can't just walk away from this mad, like last time. We   
gotta talk about it."  
  
He stood face to face with her now. She took in a deep breath and   
swallowed.  
  
"All right, what do you think we should talk about, all knowing one?"  
  
"OK, well, how come you always get so damn uptight whenever I mention Jean?"  
  
Ororo stared him in the eye, her sapphire orbs meeting his muddy green.  
  
"Well?" he inquired, when she still hadn't spoken an answer.  
  
Goddess, he was standing so close to her. She could actually see the smooth   
ripples in his shoulders, which where just below her eye level. Suddenly,   
that little voice that had been screaming in the back of her head was gone,   
it was replaced by something else. Something that just wanted to let it all   
out.  
  
"Because I want you to notice me, dammit! Jean isn't the only woman here,   
and even if she were, she doesn't love you like I." she stopped as his gaze   
continued to burn into hers. "I mean, she doesn't love you, and I have,   
well, I think that, of, damn it, why are you making me do this?" Her last   
words were spoken with a tremble as her eyes suddenly to feel a bit water   
ridden, all the while they remained locked in his gaze.  
  
Ororo didn't really realize that the fiery sensation she was feeling on her   
lips was a kiss, but when she did realize it, she treated it with the same   
eager desire that Logan gave to her. His lips were surprisingly soft, and   
they melted into Ororo's, like dipping strawberries in chocolate. That's   
what it tasted like, too. It was sweet and sensitive, another surprising   
thing coming form a man like Logan. Ororo's arms were lying dumb struck by   
her sides as her brain still tried to process what was going on. The   
memories suddenly flashed back to her. ~He's kissing you. He looked you   
strait in the eyes, and his entire face changed, and then, and then, his   
shoulder muscles were rippling so much.~  
  
Logan pulled back from the kiss and looked a bit embarrassed. "Ororo, I'm   
sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It's just that, well, believe me or not,   
I don't love Jean anymore."  
  
That was all Storm needed. Lunging forward to him, her slender arms wrapped   
around his neck as their lips entangled in another kiss, this time it was   
Logan who was caught off guard. She took this opportunity to be aggressive.   
Pulling his neck closer to her, she opened her moth into his and traced   
his lips with her tongue. A low, animal growl arose from inside Logan's   
throat as he met her intensity. His tongue danced across her lips and then   
into her mouth, where it began massaging and battling her tongue.  
  
Ororo groaned deep in her throat at this, and ran one of her hands higher   
and into his hair, where she began twisting the dark brown locks around her   
fingers. They were so soft, like goose down, or what she imagined clouds   
felt like. What she knew clouds felt like.  
  
After a few minutes, he broke their kiss and let his lips travel down her   
neck and onto her collarbone. His arms, now wrapped around her, began   
searching her back. One crawled up, towards her hair, the other lower, onto   
the small of her back. With his higher hand, he reached into her masses of   
hair and untied her hair tie, letting the white wisps float down onto her   
body.  
  
"You're so beautiful, 'Ro," he whispered to her, as his lips made trails on   
her collarbone and then her shoulder.  
  
Ororo tilted her head back and closed her eyes, focusing only on what she   
was feeling, what he was making her feel. "Logan," she whispered huskily,   
as she felt her inner muscles stirring as he nibbled behind her ear.  
  
His tongue caressed behind her ear, slowly, ever so slowly, while he   
intermittently nibbled at the little, perfect brown lobe. Storm could hear   
thunder rumbling in the distance as she felt herself growing warmer and   
warmer.  
  
"Logan, oh Goddess." She couldn't take anymore. She bent her head down and   
sought out his lips with hers, and leaned full into him, throwing all the   
weight she could against him. The two tumbled over the arm of the couch and   
landed on the massive cushions, Ororo pinning him down. She broke the kiss   
and looked down at him from her place as his hands ran through her hair.   
She had a smile on her face, something that had been increasingly rare the   
past couple of months.  
  
She dove into his body, his body felt so right against hers. She kissed,   
instead of his lips, his neck and shoulders, while one of her legs slid in   
between his and brushed against his crotch. She could hear his carnal   
groans when she did this, and she felt girlish and proud. She was making   
him make that noise, making him whisper her name over and over. She slid   
her two hands down the front of her shirt, all the while kissing and licking   
his right ear.  
  
Deftly, the two hands slid under the white shirt and began pushing it up.   
His chest was so hard. She could feel the outlines of his muscles against   
her soft hands, she could feel the soft hairs. She felt her hands rise and   
fall with each of his breaths, felt them flutter as his heart beat. Logan   
took his hands from her hair briefly, lifting them strait up as he smiled at   
Ororo as she slid his shirt off. His chest was beautiful, as if made by   
Michelangelo himself. Her lips worked down from his ear to a nipple. She   
swirled her tongue around it, feeling the little peck harden. Gently, she   
sucked at it, causing a deeper moan from Logan. Her trail of kisses moved   
to the other nipple, and then down to his stomach, obviously intending on   
going lower.  
  
Logan's hands reached down and cupped her face. He looked at her with   
adoration. "Kiss me," he growled softly to her.  
  
Leaning forward again, she kissed him, while his hands roamed around the   
front of her shirt, fingering her breasts through the pale green fabric she   
wore. His large fingers began carefully unbuttoning each button, careful   
and precise as to not miss any and not rip the shirt. Her black lace bra   
became visible and Logan growled appreciatively. One hand, gingerly as if   
unsure, reached out and cupped the breast in his hand, and soon began   
kneading it.  
  
Storm's eyes closed as she felt an orgasm building up in her body.  
  
"Oh God, Jean."  
  



	2. Part Two

CH. 2  
  
"Oh God, Jean."  
  
Storm's eyes opened and she looked down at Logan, whose hand seemed to have   
frozen in midair.  
  
"Jean? Did you just fucking say Jean?" She looked down at Logan, her eyes   
still white. He seemed to stunned to answer her, or think of an   
explanation. "You bastard."  
  
Ororo threw herself up from him and grabbed her shirt off the floor.  
  
"Ororo, wait," Logan called, quickly getting up from the couch.  
  
"I get it now. Goddess, I'm such an idiot. All that you said about not   
loving Jean was bullshit. I'm just her substitute body. I'm just a hole   
that you pretend is Jean."  
  
"No, that's not what I feel.."  
  
"Logan," she turned to face him, a desperate look on his face greeted her   
look of hatred and tears. "Logan," she sobbed out, her voice breaking,   
"Fuck off. Go to hell."  
  
She ran out of the rec room, tears falling bitterly against her cheeks.   
~You're so stupid, you're so stupid.~  
  
"Wait," he called out one last time, before Ororo used the wind to slam the   
door shut. A moment later she heard the door crack unmercifully as he threw   
it open, and Logan half ran out of it. She ran the rest of the way back   
into her classroom, which was only about twenty feet away, with Logan making   
an attempt to match her nimble speed.  
  
By the time she got into the room and had locked the door, she was spent.   
She slid against the wall down onto the floor, not trying to mask her loud   
sobs. She choked on all the waters that poured out of her, poured out of   
her and the skies. Thunder rumbled directly over the school as ton upon ton   
of rain fell, as if trying to purge the earth like a Second Great Flood.  
  
"You're so stupid!" she screamed to herself as thunder cracked loudly and   
lightening struck a nearby tree. Fuck controlling her powers. Fuck reason.   
All she wanted to do was lose control. To cry. To make the pain go away.   
Her heart felt like it had been ripped in half, like her soul was missing.   
"I loved him! I fucking loved him!" She lost her sobs in a scream, as her   
voice echoed through out the school. The rain became vertical now, and a   
tropical storm struck the coast of New Jersey.  
  
She sobbed until a river ran through her classroom, and finally she fell   
into an exhausted pile onto the floor. She was to weak to move. She didn't   
care enough to move. And that's how she fell asleep.  
  
Logan stood outside her door throughout this entire time, listening to her   
screams. ~You're a stupid fuck, you know that Logan?~ His shoulders   
sagging, he walked back to his room, where he stared at his ceiling for most   
of the night, and listened to the rain that didn't stop.  
  
***  
  
A sliver of sunlight hit Storm's eye the next day, rousing her from her   
sleep. She was curled up on the floor, her face feeling tight from all the   
dried tears on it. She mumbled to herself and rolled over, letting the sun   
hit her back instead.  
  
"Go away sun."  
  
It didn't.  
  
"Fuck off sun."  
  
A wave of dark clouds covered the sky, and soon it was as black as midnight.   
She lay like this for nearly an hour, just going over thoughts in her   
head. ~You were about to make love to him and he called out Jean's name.   
Jean. She has to have everything while I don't get any. She has two men   
that love her. How would she feel if I just slept with Scott one day? And   
him! Logan, he, that bastard. How could he. NO, no, he's not the one to   
blame, you are. Goddess, you're an idiot. You've always known that he still   
loves Jean, but you told your naïve little self that he secretly loved you,   
and you let yourself love him. Never again. I guess the Shadow King was   
right. You're life will never be filled with love, because you don't   
deserve it. You're worthless.~  
  
A fresh tear trickled down her face as she realized this. She was   
worthless. All that she'd done in life was cause others pain. Even now,   
just by being alive, she was screwing up the weather cycle. It shouldn't   
have rained last night. It should have snowed.  
  
"I guess I'll just fix that now," she whispered to herself. Her eyes whited   
over and soon a blizzard struck half of New York. The temperature, which   
had been 45 degrees, dropped to ten. Giving the storm her incentive, she   
let it snow and snow for hours, until the ground was blanketed by six feet,   
until she could hear the pipes in the mansion burst from the extreme cold,   
until she was sure that anything green that had been growing had died. It   
didn't deserve to live anyway, like her.  
  
There was a soft knock at the door.  
  
" 'Ro? I know you're in there. Are you doing this?" It was Logan.  
  
Ororo didn't answer, just huddled herself into a tighter ball.  
  
"You've got to stop it, Ororo. It ain't natural."  
  
"Fuck off, Logan. Leave me alone, and don't you dare tell me what I can and   
can't do."  
  
"Stop it. The news is reporting that five people have already frozen to   
death. Little kids, walking home from their last day of school."  
  
Ororo stopped and licked her lips. Five little children. She had probably   
done them a favor. She had prevented them from learning of the pain in   
life. "Good. Maybe I can join them."  
  
"What? That's not funny, Ororo."  
  
"Who's trying to be funny?" she muttered to herself, adjusting her position.   
She could hear Logan pacing outside the door.  
  
"Open the door."  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"I'm going to break it down."  
  
She responded to this by creating another storm. A snow storm, with   
thunder. ~That's a fucking awesome combination. Good work.~  
  
She heard a familiar snikt noise. Logan was drawing out his claws, she   
realized. She saw one burst through the wood of the door, and make a crude   
circle around the knob. Knocking the now useless wood out, he pushed the   
door forward, leaving Storm barely enough time to scoot away and avoid being   
hit. He looked down at her crumpled body.  
  
"Come on, Storm, you're better than this. Get up and stop the storm."  
  
"No."  
  
"Stop it now."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
Gruffly he reached down and yanked her to her feet. She swayed once, the   
world turning gray because of the sudden rush of blood to her head. She   
grasped onto the wall for support. ~I guess a lot of blood went rushing.   
That felt.ohh.~  
  
"Storm, people are dying just because you're in a bad mood. This ain't   
fucking funny."  
  
"And it's not supposed to be, and if you touch me again, bastard, I'll just   
make it worse."  
  
Storm swayed again, losing her footing and half stumbling against the wall.   
Logan reached over to help straiten her, but he was greeted with the eerie   
whistling of wind as thicker snow fell.  
  
"Don't you dare touch me. That's what Jean is for."  
  
She pushed a chunk of her hair back and slowly began navigating her way past   
Logan and to the door. She was feeling woozy. Probably from crying half   
the night.  
  
"Stop. Listen, I won't touch ya, but this is insane. You can't just abuse   
your powers like this."  
  
"But it's OK for you to abuse my body and take advantage of me, just because   
you're feeling horny? Damn was, it that sad."  
  
"You're not even making sense. Are you sick or something?"  
  
"Fuck the back off, Logan!"  
  
She shoved him aside with a gust of wind and ran wobbly from the room. She   
darted down the hallway and into the bathroom, where she hurriedly locked   
the door. Her hands were shaking as her eyes darted back and forth, looking   
for something to help her.  
  
Her razor. Her beautiful, blue razor.  
  
Snapping the plastic apart, she pulled out the blades and eyed them lustily.   
It would be so simple. She giggled to herself as she ran her finger over   
it. It cut her skin easily, and a small line of blood arose from her thumb.   
~Ha. I always was a bitch about having smooth legs.~  
  
Wood flew around Storm's head as the door flew open. Logan hadn't bothered   
to announce himself this time. Instead, he had just kicked the door down.  
  
"Leave alone! Leave! My doesn't love you!" she screamed as another wind   
pushed him back.  
  
She jumped over his body and prepared to fly down the hall, but he caught   
her ankle. She fell to the ground, as he began pulling her back towards   
him.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
He stared in disbelief as two prefect red lines appeared on her wrist, going   
on some vertical journey. She started laughing out loud, a cold, mechanical   
laughter, while her fingers shook furiously. The tiny blade dropped to the   
ground as she rolled onto her back, laughing and holding her wrists up in   
the air.  
  
"Look what I did! It's a pretty red river."  
  
"Jesus. Oh shit, Jesus."  
  
He quickly let go of her ankle and grabbed her wrists, putting as much   
pressure against them as he could. His hands were becoming slippery with   
all the blood.  
  
"What the, you did all this because I said Jean's name?"  
  
"Who's Jean?"  
  
"We need to get you to a hospital, but we're snowed in. Ro, listen to me.   
You gotta make the snow go away, or else you're gonna die."  
  
"And I'll have five little kids to keep me company!" She managed one more   
laugh before she passed out.  
  
***  
  
~Where am I?~ She thought to herself, groggily. She could feel blankets   
draped over her, and she was on a bed. When she opened her eyes, she was in   
the school's infirmary. The Professor, Logan, Jean, Scott, and Dr. McCoy   
looked down at her.  
  
"She's waking up," Beast said tentatively, as he peered into her face.  
  
"Wha..what's going on?" her voice sounded weak and scared, even to her.  
  
The Professor cleared his throat. "You're in the infirmary. Can you tell   
me what your name is?"  
  
"I'm Ororo. Munroe." She panted out. Talking seemed so hard. Her throat   
was very dry. "What happened to me? Was the school attacked?"  
  
Logan looked at the Professor questioningly as he continued. "No, Ororo, we   
were not attacked. You tried to take your life two days ago. You slit your   
wrists."  
  
Memories came flooding back once again. She remembered it all again, but   
not as if it had happened to her, but as if she had watched it happening to   
some stranger.  
  
"Goddess, why did I do that? I remember, but, but that wasn't me."  
  
"We know, Ororo. I only thank God that Beast happened to come to the   
mansion to deliver Christmas presents before it was too late."  
  
"But why did I do it? Surely I wasn't that mad at Logan for.for.."  
  
"Hush, my X-Man, and let me explain. Or perhaps Beast could explain it the   
best."  
  
"Thank you Professor. After Logan and I had patched Storm up sufficiently   
and called the Professor and Jean and Scott, I asked him what exactly had   
happened. Logan, err, described the delicate situation to me and told me   
how you weren't acing like yourself, almost like you were on some foreign   
substance. That's what got me thinking about being under the influence of   
not a foreign substance, but, err, the substances that are abundant when one   
is engaging in, well, yes, it got me thinking about pheromones and hormones.   
Because of Logan's mutation, he gives off a fair amount of normally latent   
chemicals everyday, most of them primal, and I took the liberty to examine a   
few of them in comparison to your own."  
  
"I'm not sure if I'm following you," Ororo murmured, closing her eyes. She   
was so tired.  
  
"Well, to explain it in simpler terms, the chemicals Logan excrete have a   
negative reaction with your own pheromones and chemicals. Especially those   
released from your pituitary, your doscorine pheromones in particular.   
Under normal circumstances, you have an abundance of them, and whenever they   
come in contact with Logan's, I believe it was his cytosenic chemicals, it   
created negative effects in your medulla region of your mind and throughout   
body. Tell me, Ororo, after encounters with Logan, did you often feel   
confused, angry, irrational, and, err, aroused?"  
  
Ororo let loose a little smile. "Actually yes. Constantly. Even now I   
can't stop thinking about him, but I shouldn't be."  
  
Logan felt a bit uncomfortable and took a small step away form her bed.  
  
"That's exactly what my evidence shows. And lately, our area has been under   
a low pressure system. I took the opportunity to study this, and it appears   
that under low barometric pressure, you produce even stronger and more   
abundant doscorine pheromones, as a result of your mutation, which result in   
even more heightened feelings of anger, confusion, irrational behavoir, and,   
err, arousal. That would explain your behavior and actions this past week,   
and why you temporarily lost control of you powers and created all those   
storms."  
  
"I never lost control of my powers."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I never lost control of them. If anything, I had more control. It surged   
through my body like raw energy. I created those storms that killed all   
those people."  
  
"But you were under the influence of-"  
  
"Of my own body. My friend, you can't mask the fact that I killed those   
people through my actions. But thank you for explaining to me the root of   
my problem."  
  
"Anytime, my dear. As for now, you need some bed rest, so I would suggest   
that all of us let her be for the time."  
  
Jean leaned down to kiss her forehead, and soon all of them had left. All   
except for Logan. He lingered by her bed, tracing his finger up and down   
the metal guard rail.  
  
"Listen Ro. I'm real sorry about what happened. I shouldn't of never   
treated you like that and then said Jean's name. It was just a mistake, a   
very stupid mistake on my part. I didn't mean to say her name."  
  
Ororo's eyes followed his finger while he spoke. "That's all right Logan.   
And I guess I should apologize myself for how I acted." She laughed a   
bright yet sad laugh. "And to think, Logan, that I thought that I was in   
love with you. I was sure that I was."  
  
Logan stopped tracing his finger up and down the rail and stared at her   
intently.  
  
"I was sure that that was the only explanation as to why I always noticed   
you. Why I knew that you always leave for your jog at 6:43, come back at   
7:21, and then take a thirteen minute shower. Why I knew that you hate   
grape jelly, that your favorite show is Cops, that you secretly like to read   
Cosmo when you don't think anybody's looking."  
  
Logan's throat convulsed as it looked like he wanted to say something, but   
Storm continued.  
  
"I thought I was in love with you. That I'd spend the rest of my life with   
you, that I'd feel your body pressed against mine and that you'd whisper 'I   
love you' in my ear. But it was just the chemicals."  
  
He took a step closer to her face. "Ro, it can't be all chemicals, cuz I-"  
  
Storm reached up and grabbed his hand that had been just about to stroke her   
face. "Logan, don't. Please don't. I won't be able to stop myself. Even   
now, I feel, I feel, my body is screaming for you to make love to me. If   
you touched my face, I wouldn't be able to stop. I'd kiss you back and melt   
into you. I'd become on with you, but, but-" she lost her train of thought   
as her skin told her of how warm and wonderful his hand felt, his skin   
against hers. She dropped his hand roughly. "But I can't let what happened   
ever happen again. It's my responsibility."  
  
Logan gulped and looked down at her. "I understand. I just, well, I should   
probably let you get yer rest. I'll," he paused as Ororo closed her eyes,   
knowing what he was going to say, "I'll try and stay away from you from now   
on. That's my responsibility."  
  
She kept her eyes closed for some time, long after she heard the soft click   
of the door closing. Only then did a solitary tear run down her skin, the   
skin that was still on fire from Logan's caress a few days ago, but never   
again. ~It had only been the chemicals between us.~  
  
  
  
That's the end. Did you like it? Oh, please lie to me and say you did!  



End file.
